Soy Sauce!

So this one time, we ordered sushi takeout from our second-favorite local sushi dive and Josh ripped his soy sauce packet open just at the right angle to squirt right into my eyeball.

It burned. And my eye was brown for a bit. But the sushi was still worth it.

My life as a teacher post

I have to read/teach this sinfully boring book in my reading class. There is a minstrel in the story named John-go-in-the-Wynd. He's also a messenger. My students were trying to come up with some kind of combo name for him... Messenstrel, minger.... The best they came up with was...

Menstrual.

Awesome.

We're ready to sleep

When I was a student, I came to a point (as most overly busy students do) when I didn't want to do school anymore. I would get brain-overload and stress build-up and kind of just give up. I never had the willpower to muscle through the last couple weeks of school. Hence, my grades were just ok. I was a normal student, but not a great one. The end of the semester was just too monumental for me, I guess.

Fast forward to my life now. Maybe being a teacher is too similar to being a student. I have a mere ten days left til Christmas break, and I want to just lay in bed, watch Project Runway and Drop Dead Diva (introduced to me by my sister. Sorry, Janet. I kind of blame you for my determination's demise), clean the house and play the piano.

I guess some things will never change.

Is it Autumn or Winter?

I don't know the answer because I took these pictures within days of each other. Either way, it's pretty outside.

I am a boob.

It's the thirteenth week of school (hooray!) and I have already cried in front of my class three times.

The first time was while reading the poem they were to perform for our Veteran's Day assembly (a BIG deal at this school). It's called 'The Things That Make a Soldier Great' by Edgar A. Guest. It's all about how soldiers don't fight for their country- they fight for their home and family. So I cried. I'm secretly very patriotic; not many may know. Now you know (I also used to cry every week during the national anthem. Now that I'm in charge and trying to wrangle sixth graders into being respectful, I don't cry every time. But I still do fairly often).

The next two times were while finishing 'Where the Red Fern Grows'. Now, this was the first book I ever cried for. I read it in fifth grade and remember crying my eyes out. I have since cried in many a book. I was very excited to read this book again with these kids. I thought I could handle it, as an adult.

Obviously not.

I had to make one of my students finish reading on Friday (when we stopped right after Billy buries Old Dan) AND today, when I couldn't see the words through my tears after Billy found Little Ann on Dan's grave.

My only consolation is that some of the kids were crying right along with me.

But that still makes me a boob. A cry-baby. Hopefully the kids don't judge me too much.

Interestingly awful

This is what is happening right now in education.  It's awful.

Read this article about it- my boss is quoted.  She's very eloquent.

http://educatingourselves.blogs.deseretnews.com/2012/10/22/letting-those-other-kids-lag-behind-a-principal-responds-to-the-new-differentiated-standards/

"You were probably tired; there's a lot on your mind."

Last night, as we lay in bed after a full day, I tugged on Josh's hand and said, "We need to pray."

He didn't hear me.

I tugged again and repeated my statement, only to be surprised by his response: "We already did, don't you remember?"

No.  I didn't remember.  I must have been thinking about other things when it happened.

How horrible am I???

We laughed for a long long time and then I prayed an apology to Heavenly Father for my distracted and exhausted excuse for my lack of mental engagement in giving thanks.

Don't judge.